For all the critiques thrown at Bazball, they aren’t often accused of being cowards. That label was reserved for the sides of yesteryear.
England teams that collapsed, fell, crumbled under Australia, and all that entails. Under Stokes and McCullum, the Bazball brand has been synonymous with fearless, brave cricket, but this latest Gabba capitulation is one of a team playing the most frightened cricket of all.
In the post-match interviews, Stokes was at a loss to why his team is unable to pull through in the big moments. The answer was on everyone’s lips except England’s captain; your batters have a weird fascination with throwing their wickets away, and your bowlers are having a full-blown love affair with the equivalent of cricketing filth–the short wide one.
Of course, Stokes can hardly say this aloud; doing so would be the final nail in the Bazball coffin. So, in front of the cameras, they’ll keep chugging the Kool-Aid. The problem is that they seem to be drinking it back in the dressing room as well.
Stokes said that Australia is “No country for weak men.” He’s right–and that’s why England have looked so out of place. They have not only been weak, but they have been cowardly, hiding behind an ethos that excuses recklessness as courage and ineptitude as intent.
Too often, England’s bravado has shielded their deficiencies. But that shield is crumbling, and for the first time, even the wider English media seems to have had enough.
To give England their due, on day four Stokes and Jacks decided to dig in, taking a leaf out of Starc and Boland’s book from the day before. But their resolve was too little and far too late, finally undone by some Steve Smith magic.
As Ricky Ponting said in commentary, “It’s far too late, champ.” And knowing England, they are likely to double down once more in Adelaide and beyond, for potentially one last desperate Bazball hurrah.
Heading into this series, it was billed as round two of English chaos and Australian pragmatism, a reprise of 2023. Both sides are stubborn and unwavering in standing by their method. But in Perth and at the Gabba, Australia has out-Bazballed the Bazballers.
Travis Head’s sucker punch was not a blip; in Brisbane, it was Australia who scored faster, not England. Even before Will Jacks and Ben Stokes remembered the very existence of a forward defense, England’s run rate across the two innings was at 4.44. Australia’s? 4.89. Talk about being beaten at your own game.
In fact, Australia did their absolute best impression of Bazball when they gave their wickets away to England’s Neil Wagner field. Green ran away from his stumps, and Jacks plucked out Steve Smith, before the latter returned the favor.
Before Stokes employed the short ball, Labuschagne flirted outside the off stump and paid the price. After the dismissals of Smith and Green, Australia could have very easily folded for a small lead, unable to capitalize when the score read 290/3, only an hour ago. But this is Australia. Not England.
Australia’s lower order applied themselves and stretched their first innings score to 511, and more crucially ensured that the new pink ball would be available under the lights.
As England wilted beneath the sun, unable to dislodge Starc and Boland, Australia was showcasing the very difference between them and England. The ability to change gears, to read the game, to put it very bluntly, apply kindergarten fundamentals of cricket. To think of England doing the same is laughable.
Starc’s dismissal of Brook in the first innings, in the second session of day one, is an absolute encapsulation of England’s blindness to context. Smith had kept his trump card holstered all session, waiting until the 40th over. The England fans behind me turned to each other and muttered, “This is crucial”, with Root and Brook at the crease. Starc’s virtuosity in the series leaves no one in any doubt about his significance.
Everyone recognized the moment, except Harry Brook. First ball of the over, Root takes a single to the offside. Next delivery, Starc tempts him with width, Brook flashes, and he’s gone. Predictable. Inevitable.
Jamie Smith had never played a pink-ball game before. Judging by how lost he looked, he may as well have been playing an entirely different sport. Across two innings, his contribution amounted to just 13 deliveries.
Smith and the other English batters opted out of the day-night tour match against the Prime Minister’s XI in Canberra.
Questions, of course, ensued about England’s lack of preparation, even if the Canberra conditions would have been vastly different from the Gabba. Brendon McCullum’s response to his team’s alleged lack of preparation was entirely predictable and unpredictable at the same time:
I actually felt like we over-prepared to be honest
Ironically, England, when they came to Australia in the past, were unable to bowl, unable to bat, and unable to catch. An upheaval in cricketing philosophy later, they find themselves in precisely the same position. At least they have a slogan to come with it this time round.
There is a silver lining for the disgruntled England fans. For the first time under McCullum, we seem to be approaching the point where the prospect of self-reflection may creep into the team’s vocabulary.
And there will be plenty of time on the golf course to ponder these very important matters.
About the Author: Moosa Niazi
Brisbane kid who’s chasing narratives. Cricket, F1, and everywhere in between, trying to justify the hours lost watching them.
